


Breaking him

by WylieSchatz



Category: Professional Wrestling, Raw (TV), World Wrestling Entertainment, wwe smackdown - Fandom
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Torture, Drama, Gen, Hate, Hurt Dean, M/M, Other, Rating: M, Rating: NC17, Tied-Up Dean, Torment, ambreigns - Freeform, dean whumping, explicit violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2017-11-08
Packaged: 2018-07-28 12:13:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7639750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WylieSchatz/pseuds/WylieSchatz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is having a bad day. Literally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there. I dunno where to go to with this story. It was supposed to be a one-shot and I only wrote it down to get it out of my head after a very stressful work day. But I guess I just have to torture Dean a little bit more... :) It's not betaread and as far as I know I'm not a native speaker, so you might find A LOT of grammar mistakes. If you like, you can keep them, BUT if you also like, you can contact me and become my betareader. :)
> 
> I would love to hear from you all what you think. Leave kudos and lots of love! Everything is appreciated!

First thing he heard was his own breathing before he came slowly aware of his surroundings. He felt the hard solid ground underneath him. Solid and cold. It instantly made him shiver. He took a deep breath inhaled some dust and coughed.

"Aaaah fuck ..."

His whole body ached when he coughed, especially his head and the part of his rips he was lying on. A part of his face was throbbing and felt swollen, when he grimaced. He tried to bring up a hand to his head, as he noticed that his hands were tied behind his back. That explained the drag he felt on his shoulders.  
He tried to get rid of the small ropes but they only cut deeper into his flesh when he moved.

He tiredly opened his eyes. Damn, why was he tied up? Was he kidnapped? He tried his best to see something, but it was all black. Not a single ray of light came into the room where he was, revealing the slightest outline to him.  
It could have been the biggest palace in the dark or even the trunk of a big car. It smelled rotten, so he figured it wasn't a palace. The smell of mould, dried blood and other disgusting things crept up to his nose.

Dean was thoroughly an adrenaline junkie. He enjoyed the feeling that let him made all the crazy things in his life. He wasn't afraid of heights or speed, of placing a good punch or even getting one. Taking the risk to break his neck every day, that was exactly his thing. The adrenaline kept him alive. Made him feel something good. He loved the feeling that let him go crazy and conquer everything he wanted.  
But this, this was so not his thing. And it sparked in him a feeling which he actually thought he wasn't able to feel any more: Panic. Pure, panic.

Where the hell was he? And above all, who did this to him? And when? He tried to remember where he was before he woke up a minute ago, but nothing. No memory and even the slightest idea of how he came here. There must have been a violent blow to the head he figured. It wasn't the first time someone smashed his head and the splitting headache spoke for itself. He felt the dust from the ground clinging to his head and something wet but as long as he can't see what it is, there is no time to waste a thought about it.

He tried to control his breathing when he realized he was almost hyperventilating.

 _"I must calm down. Breath in, breath out. This ain't too diffic..."_ he said mentally to himself, when suddenly there was a crack. It wasn't loud but it was heard above his heavy breathing and it let him stop breathe immediately. He wasn't alone. He was looking around but still couldn't see a thing.

“So you didn't expect that, right?” The other man cackled.

The voice sounded familiar but Dean couldn't put a finger on it. He felt light headed and wasn't able to think properly. He tried to breath in with his mouth open but ended in another coughing fit as the dry air scratched his throat and sting his lungs.

"Mr. World Heavyweight Champion..." the other man spit it out with as much venom as he could.

"What... what do you want?" Dean asked with a rough, low voice, trying so suppress another cough.

"What I want? You know what _that_ is."

The steps came closer before they fell silent. With the fact that dirt was kicked in his face he suspected that his kidnapper now was standing right in front of him. He heard faint rustling and suddenly felt a hot breath on his face.  
Dean couldn't stop the panic rise inside of him, making his heartbeat increase deadly high.

He was wondering how that ass hole could see anything in this black mess. How he knew where his face was. Was it possible, that he used a night vision device or something like that? He tried to get away from the other man, but failed. His body betrayed him as it hardly moved away from the breathing in his face. He just couldn't. His head was spinning, hurting like hell and he felt nauseous. He tried to move his feet but that was only rewarded with just more pain in his back and on his ankles. They're must been tied up, too. Well, at least he was still able to feel pain in every nerve of his body. That must mean a good thing...

It felt like an eternity, like he took his time to watch his captive before Dean finally heard him speak:

"You can't imagine the pleasure I feel, seeing you like this, Dean.” 

The man cackled again. He came an inch nearer, whispering and breathing now into his left ear with a pleased growl in his deep voice. It sent shivers down Dean's spine and he swallowed hard.

“I want you to suffer. I want to break you. I want to pay everything back to you what you did to me. And the best thing is: Nobody has a clue, that you're mine now. Nobody wonders where you are or what you're doing."

“I... I don't b'lieve you...”

It just didn't make sense. He was _the_ man, the face of the WWE, it can't get unnoticed that he doesn't show up at an event, houseshow, a meet and greet or whatever he was up to before he got here. The fans would miss him, his colleagues would miss him. Of course, Stephanie would miss him, too, even if she wouldn't mind him gone. But it was clearly bad for business, if he vanished from the face of the earth and never appeared again.

“Oh... you will...”

The man stood up and Dean still wasn't sure with whom he was dealing here. At least it seemed, that this man clearly got the upper hand. 

"You son of-"

Last thing he heard was a loud smack. A targeted blow to his head send him back into unconsciousness.

“Don't you underestimate me _ever_ again!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the delay. Got my muse back and wanted to post it a bit earlier. But... here it is! Tell me what you think! All good or bad is appreciated!

He smiled in nervous anticipation when he watched the tied up person on the camera. It was pointed directly at Dean and it just showed a little bit of the background of the room he was in.

It took him a lot of time and money to install a video surveillance into his cellar. He made up plans for months how to turn it into reality. He hardly got time's off so it had to be well planned. It wasn't like he could just hire some craftsman for it, though he thought about to do just that.  
Somehow he managed to get an idea where to place the camera, where to put up the hook on the ceiling, how to get the room even soundproof. It was all reasoned and he was pretty proud of it.

His smile grow wider. He waited so damn long for this to happen.

He studied the lean figure on the monitor. He wondered if this position was as uncomfortable as it looked. He was sure that Dean's shoulder might pop out if he's kept just long enough in this position. Hands tied up above the head, his feet hardly touch the ground. It wasn't that easy to find a house with a cellar this high but he was lucky.   
His sandy dirty hair was sticking bloodied to his forehead and temple. He was breathing in a steady rhythm which indicated that he was still unconscious.

For a short moment he thought that if the kick against his head was a little too much of a good thing. He smiled. No. He just knew what Dean was capable of taking hits. He smiled as the memory of him and Dean popped into his head. How long did they know each other? A lifetime. They were in the ring together as brothers, and more lately as enemies but that doesn't really matter.

He knew how much Dean can endure until he will pass out. He was sure it wouldn't be easy to break him. But he would try. The plan was great, just nothing could go wrong, he had more than one ace up his sleeve.

He took a long breath. It was more to steady himself for the upcoming game than to calm him down. He was calm. Deadly calm. He just didn't want to wait much longer. With a grim expression on his face he opened the thick soundproof metal door, rushed down the stairs and smacked his fist right into Dean's face.

“Wake up scumbag! You've got enough sleep.”

As he didn't get a response he just grew angrier. He stomped out of the cellar only to come back with a huge bucket filled with ice water. He poured it over Dean's head.

“I said wake up!”

Dean's eyes flung open and he couldn't help himself but take an agonizing breath triggered by the sudden cold. It took him some time to cope with the sudden cold and he just looked wide-eyed at the person in front of him.

He tried to remember why he's hung up in this fucked up position, why not only his head hurt like hell but his whole body. He shivered as the cold crept up on him touched just every single nerve.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Seth?” still trying to catch his breath and keep his body from shaking, the wet shirt clinging on him.

Throwing the bucket away, he came a few steps nearer.

“What do you mean?” he spat in Dean's face an laughed. He grabbed his jaw aggressively and looked directly in his eyes. It was very shady in this room, but the light from the stairs were enough for Dean to see the face of Seth.

“You wanna know what's wrong with me? DO YOU REALLY WANNA KNOW IT?” he screamed the last sentence not lessen the grip on Dean's jaw.

“I will tell you! No! I will SHOW it to you!” he let go of him just to slap him.

Dean tried to grimace the pain away.

“You took the championship from me. You made a joke of me! So I'm gonna take that damn ego of you and rip it apart.”

“You are not a joke, Seth.” he tried to soothe him shaking his head. “You're still my brother.”

“You made a fucking joke of me!” Seth screamed. “You made a joke of me, the first time you fucked our brother. You made a joke of me, with everything you've done the past year and finally took the damn championship from my shoulders. But I got news for you, Dean. You're not getting that title back. And...you're not going to see him EVER again.”

No no no no no no! Dean knew he was bragging. He MUST be bragging. His heart rate got up the time Seth mentioned him. Roman. The love of his life.

“What did you do to him?”

“Nothing. Yet.”

It was hard enough to accept the fact that he got betrayed by Seth, his brother, by thrashing a steel chair into Roman back then. But to hear, how he's talking now... he didn't know if he should be more pissed or if it's breaking his heart. Again.  
He tried to remember when was the last time he spoke to him. He tried to figure out the possibility, if Roman's got captured before he even was there. But to do that, he must know what date is today.

“What day is it?”

Seth circled his present and watched him from behind. He didn't answer. It made Dean nervous.

“Leave him alone, you hear me?”

Dean couldn't see his smiling face. He just looked into the dim lights, trying to figure out where Seth was. But with the angle his arms where tangled up, it wasn't that easy.

“It's not that you could do anything about it...”

“I said, leave Roman alone!”

Seth came near Dean and breathed in his neck.

“Say please.” he grinned.

Dean's head was spinning. His headache grew wider and it took all of his self-control to not scream at his brother- former brother- he corrected himself. He wanted to choke this bastard so badly. If he laid a finger on Roman, he wouldn't survive it. But right now, he have to make sure, that Seth's not laying a finger on him. 

“Please.”

“Please, what?”

“Please... don't do anything stupid. If you want the title back, you can have it. It's yours. Just let me go and I won't tell anybody what happened. It stays between you and me, and...”

Dean rambled, but got interrupted by a firm hand on his hips, sticking that cold and wet shirt on his body. It didn't go unnoticed that Dean shivered. His hairs stood on end by the following words whispered in his ear and Seth's body pressed on him from behind.

“Now, you're mine. Forever. There won't be much he can have back when I'm finished.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Third chapter up. Enjoy!

With nervous anticipation Roman had dialled Dean's number and waited. He sighed. Voicemail. Again.

“Hey, Dean. I... uhm... did I do anything wrong? I haven't heard from you for a while now. I just wanted to let you know that I'm sorry, IF I did something wrong and... that I miss you. Yeah... so... please call or text me back. Please. I'm... I'm worried.”

He hung up and sighed again. He didn't know how many times in the past week he dialled this number. If he hadn't already known it by heart, he would now. It just didn't made sense, that he's not calling back at all. They hardly see each other during the week so all that was left was a quick call between a flight to the next taping or house show. It's wasn't easy travelling within two different brands and keeping up a stable relationship Roman knew that, but both agreed to try.

He silently cursed Mick Foley and Stephanie McMahon for choosing him to be on RAW instead of SmackDown. Everything could be so easy but in fact it wasn't.

Roman missed Dean's closeness. He missed his lean, slender body snuggled up to him when he woke up in the middle of the night. He missed the auburn stubble scratching his skin when Dean kissed his neck.  
He missed the positive energy that was around him as he walked, his stubbornness and craziness in the ring, damn Roman even missed the fact that he was pissed every time Dean spread his clothes all over Roman's place and didn't even bother to clean up before he came home.

He just missed: Dean. A lot.

When he came to the arena for the next house show, his gut told him that something was foul. But he just couldn't put a finger on it. He had a feeling that something would go wrong in this show. He was late for discussing the choreo, but when he arrived and talked with Mick and Seth, who's gonna win, who's showing what and when, he knew this couldn't be it. He would spear Seth to the ground and win. No high risk jump from the top rope or anything like that would make his gut wrench like that.

He waited until Seth and Mick had their conversation finished.

“Hey, Seth, can I talk to you for a minute?”

Seth was about to go as he heard Roman speak. As he was standing behind him and couldn't see it, he grinned mischievously for a second before turning around and keeping up a straight face.

“Sure.”

“I... uhm... have you heard anything from Dean?”

“No, why should I?”

Seth crossed his arms in front of him.

“I'm worried, he didn't answer my calls, he never text me back, and...”

“Well... maybe he's just... busy...”

Seth's corner of his mouth twitched; it was hard keeping a straight face as the memory of yesterday came into his mind. The memory of Dean's body, so close to him, sweating, screaming as he came hard because of him. Dean would never admit that he liked what Seth did to him. But he saw and oh- he felt it.

“Seth, this isn't funny.”

He was looking right into Roman's worried gaze. He wondered what he'd look like when he found Dean. He had to make sure not to miss this.

“Oh I think it is, actually. You're missing your little pet, and I should know what he's up to? You're a funny guy...”

Without waiting for an answer he walked away.

“He's not my little pet. At least I was hoping you heard from him. Well, sorry to bother you!” 

Roman screamed after him. He was angry. He knew from the start that it was a mistake to ask Seth straight away if he new where Dean was. It hurt him to hear how he's talking about their relationship. It hurt how he treated them. They were so close... friends... brothers... but that was a long time ago.

“I'm gonna beat his ass...” he mumbled under his breath and dialled Dean's number again.

***

 

Dean couldn't recall how long it took for him to finally loose consciousness.  
The numbness slowly fading away he started to actually feel something again. He groaned as he felt nothing but agony. He felt that everything hurt.

Everything.

The hammering headache got him first out of consciousness followed by a stinging sensation in his ass. Slowly he remembered where that came from. Dean felt a single tear escaping from his badly swollen left eye. He's got pretty beaten up by Seth after he fucked him senseless for hours.

Seth wanted to hear how good it felt filled up by him, thrusting in and out moaning in his neck, but Dean just wouldn't say anything which made him angry in a very bad way. When Seth finished raping him he vented all of his anger. A hard fist split Dean's lip open, letting him taste his own blood while screaming and crying silently for help. Seth didn't stop throwing a few more punches at him until his head fell forward.

This night, he had made Dean cum twice, not bothering to clean up the mess afterwards.  
Now, as he gained consciousness again, he felt his sticky jeans tangling around his ankles, dried cum in his underwear mixed with urine, as he still was tied up on the ceiling with his, by this time numb hands, and not allowed to use the toilet for... he didn't know if it was hours or days. He was wondering how long it might take for a shirt to dry down there as it was still cold and wet and made him shiver.

The pain made him twitch every time he breathed in. He heard his chopped breathing and wondered how long he could survive this. Though he knew Seth, he couldn't understand why he did this to him. His mouth was dry as he tried to swallow. When he was with Seth down here, and little light were shining through that door, he was able to see that there were a few water bottles placed in a corner of his cell. But it didn't matter. He couldn't move let alone grab a bottle, no matter how near it stood.  
He chuckled and suppressed a groan as the pain ripped through him.

Dean heard nothing but the blood rush in his ears and felt his heart beating a fast steady rhythm. This and his agony reminded him that he still wasn't dead, but he wondered if this would be the place where it ends.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. Wanted to update as fast as I could aaaand here it is: Chapter 4! I made some mistakes in the earlier chapters but I think I hid them well as nobody cursed at me. ;) Enjoy!

Stephanie was busy talking on the phone. As always. It was a normal picture of her standing somewhere in the middle of the backstage area, taking some calls, but when Roman came in her sight, she murmured something quickly and hung up. She put her mobile away and came up to him: “You got a minute, Roman?”

“Uh... sure... what's up?”

First, he thought that she wanted to talk about the match that happened about 5 minutes ago, but she lead him to a not so crowded place near the locker rooms.

“I know I don't have the right to ask, but... is everything okay? I mean with you and Dean?” Stephanie asked a slightly concerned look on her face. Roman tried to figure out what this conversation is about.

“We... uhm... I... think so. Why?”

“I asked you because he vacated the title and asked for some time off. Shane just called me and told me that.”

It took some time for the information to sink in. He stopped wiping the sweat of his face and looked at her questioningly.

“What?!”

“I said, he asked-”

“I know what you said. What do you mean by 'he vacated the title'?” Roman interrupted.

He would never just do that, wouldn't he? The WWE planned an identical title for RAW now that the Heavyweight Championship is on Smackdown. So this title was right now the biggest title in WWE history. Why the hell would he give something like this back just like this?

“That's what I heard. And I was gonna asking you what's wrong. So... you didn't know?”

“No. You don't think that this is odd, do you?” Roman asked.

“Why should I wonder what's going on in his crazy brain? Maybe he wasn't the champ we thought he would be.”

“You know that's not true.”

“I'm not sure what I should think of him, actually.” Stephanie confessed.

“Maybe you can talk him out of that. Maybe not. Talk to him. Try. But you know what? If he keeps this attitude “I wanna be a champ, no I don't wanna be a champ” up, he's not embarrassing only himself, he is embarrassing the company for hiring him in the first place and put him in this place. This is unprofessional. Roman, we got a big problem here. I don't think he's going to Smackdown tomorrow. What are we gonna do? What are we telling the fans that he's not there? We need to make up a whole new storyline. And he won't get another title shot ev...”

The mobile rang again in her trouser pocket. She grabbed it, looked on the display and sighed.

“Alright, maybe you could ask him what this is all about. I'm gonna take this call.”

Roman leaned against the wall. What did he just heard? This can't be true! He suppressed the urge to dial Dean's number- he already did it the last three days without avail. He left at least 60 messages on his mailbox but never got an answer back. He asked himself what did he wrong the last four days, but now it seems that the problem was totally different.

Dean could have asked to get switched to RAW and vacate the title or just bring the title to RAW and loose it intentionally. But he didn't. That all didn't make sense to Roman. His guts told him something was wrong. Really wrong.

When Roman found a way back to his locker, deeply sunken in his thoughts, he didn't seem to notice Seth waiting behind a corner. He overheard the conversation and was more than pleased how this is going to work out. He can't wait heading back to Dean and have some fun. He reminded him that he would send a message to Roman from Dean's mobile, too. But, that can wait.

It took Seth about three and a half hours to finally drive back from Chicago to Davenport. The traffic costed him some valuable time. He cursed at himself for not choosing the plane but reminded himself that he would have the next two days off and that meant a lot of time to spend with Dean.

When he came home he first laid his stuff on the kitchen counter before checking on his captive on the camera. There he was: Still hanging from the ceiling. A tingly feeling inside Seth's stomach made him smile. He itched lying his hands on him again. But first, he had to take care of him. He overthought his plans and decided that Dean might need a bath or something like that.

Seth grabbed a little bowl and filled it with hot water and another one with ice cold water. He opened the door to the cellar and put both bowls one at a time on a little table near Dean. He checked if he still got the knife in his backpocket. Seth ignored the pungent smell radiating from his captive as he cut the ties and with a loud thud Dean landed on the ground.

“NO! NO! Please!”

Dean's landing on the ground was hard and he woke with a start. Although he crawled away from Seth, he wasn't aware that his ties had been cut and that he could actually move around. He couldn't feel his hands in the first place, it took some seconds before they started to tickle and also before they started to hurt like hell.

“Look at you, you filthy little whore.”

Seth took some steps towards Dean.

“You smell like shit, you know that? Guess it's time for a bath now.”

“No, please... just let me go...”

“Oh I actually will let you go. But not after I spend some more time with you. You remember what I first told you when you came here?”

Dean shook his head in exasperation.

“Oh you do. Why don't you tell me?”

“I... I can... can't remember...”

“Bullshit!”

Dean crawled away until he felt something stone cold in his back. A wall. He tried to hold back the tears as he sat up. His hands were no good use right now and Seth just knew that. It was kind of a wonder that his left shoulder was still in place, after he hung in this cellar for at least two days straight.  
He was badly bruised, he could see it now with the light streaming down from the door. He saw dried blood on his legs from who-knows-were and he felt as dirty as he probably was.

Seth didn't hurry to catch up with Dean, he knew he hasn't anywhere to go to. Seth didn't think that Dean would beat him, he wouldn't have the courage to do it. So he came nearer until he sat right in front of him. He smiled. And all Dean could tell, that it wasn't a friendly smile.

“So do you wanna take a bath now or not?”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally the next chapter. Enjoy!
> 
> WARNING: You should definitely skip this chapter if reading anyone getting raped isn't your thing.

“No, no, please no.”

Seth was thrusting in and out of him, keeping a steady paste, grunting whenever it felt right. He managed to clean up Dean as good as he needed to be fucked. He used some of the hot water to scrub the stains off of him only to nearly drown him in the bucket with the ice cold water afterwards. He thought he did a good job and demanded a reward.

“Do you like that? Huh? Say you like that you little whore!”

Dean was lying face first in the dirt and couldn't say that he liked what he felt. Not. At. All.  
He felt sore all over his body, his left eye was throbbing, he wasn't able to open it a bit. While Seth was grunting behind him he was holding as still a he could. There was enough friction he was barely able to handle in this situation. His backside felt ripped open, not prepared for any of this.

The last time Seth raped Dean was different. He took his time, used a lot of lube and not only tried to get off, but he took care of Dean, too. Twice. This time, he just spit in his hands and rubbed it over his hard dick before he entered Dean roughly. It seemed, that he was only looking for his own pleasure, but Dean couldn't care less. He didn't enjoy the first time, either. He just wanted it to be over.

“You're so tight, babe. That feels so good. Fuck!”

Although the door were open as long as Seth was with him, he couldn't move. Not with Seth's weight above him holding him down. He was dehydrated, it wasn't easy for him to think about how he could escape from this hell. Plus, he still couldn't grab anything with his numb hands. The ties had left some nasty looking bloody scars on his wrists, hurting every time he accidentally touched them.

He felt weak. Never thought he would feel that way ever again since his childhood back in the days were he hardly finished a day not battered and bruised by his stepfather.

With every thrust forward Dean was closer to have a nervous breakdown. His body pressed against the cold, dirty concrete, made him more and more aware of the fact that he had no chance to get out of here.

Seth's hands grabbed Dean's hair, totally unaware of the sobbing human beneath him.

“Please... stop it. Let me go.” he managed to plea.

His throaty voice was hardly a whisper. He wasn't sure Seth would hear him. Well in fact he didn't. Dean felt so damn good beneath him that he couldn't care less how he felt or what he wanted.

Seth pulled hard on Dean's hair as he came inside him, made his former brother squeal in agony.

It took Seth some time to catch his breath again. He pulled out of him, cleaned himself up with one of the towels near the bowls before he looked at Dean again.

“Clean yourself up. I'll get you something to eat.”

He threw the towel right into Dean's face. It's awful smell of blood and semen made Dean retch. He shoved it as far away as he could before he started crying. Although his whole body ached and he still got breathing problems due to his probably broken rips, he managed to curl himself up in a ball. He didn't care about the sharp pain that went from his ribs to his back every time he took a deep breath.

Dean thought about Roman. His warm smile and soft touch. He still didn't know if Roman got captured by Seth, too. Part of him wanted him here so badly. But now he knew what Seth was capable of, so Roman being here was out of discussion. Every time he closed his eyes he saw him. It broke his heart in two. If he could only see his lovely smile one more time...

“Here, eat this.”

Seth voice echoed in Dean's ears and made him flinch. He didn't hear him coming back. Dean tried to curl in an even smaller ball, feeling somehow ashamed by his own crying. He tried to hide his sobs, just lying there, hoping for all this coming to an end.

Seth put a small dish on the table before he turned to grab the two bowls and carried them out of the cellar. He smiled. He read enough about any kind of torture and he picked just the right one for him, he knew it. It was selfish, a bit, to think that rape would turn Dean into the sobbing mess he was now, but it really worked. Seth must work now on the second part.

He came back another time with a mobile in his hand and a bottle of juice. He sat down in front of Dean and watched him. How he was lying there, naked, dirty, trying to hide his face behind his arms. By how he hold them, Seth could tell that he still had problems with his hands.

Well, he would take care of that tomorrow, probably. Dean had to use his hands for eating and drinking. Seth wouldn't let him just starve right here and now.

“Hungry?” he asked, with maybe a bit empathy in his voice.

“No.” Dean answered silently.

“You have to eat, Ambrose. There is no way I let you starve down here. I planned something fun for you and Roman, I need your blood sugar's high. So you're gonna eat, end of discussion.”

He took the dish from the table an place it with a clank right in front of Dean's face.

“Eat.”

As Dean wasn't moving he suffered a harmful kick to the knee.

“I said: EAT!”

Dean grabbed a slice of bread as he was told. To Seth's surprise it wasn't falling out of his hands as he predicted. Dean chewed slowly but couldn't get himself to swallow it. He took another tiny bite but kept the first one in his mouth, too.

“Drink.”

Dean put the bread back onto the dish and took the bottle out of Seth's hand. His own hand was shaking as he tried to grab it properly, but it worked despite the fact that he couldn't really feel it.

Seth didn't seem to care. Now that Ambrose was eating and drinking, it was time for part two.

“You wanna know how much your Daddy's missing you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Powerhouse will return in the next chapter. Until then, stay tuned!


	6. Chapter 6

_It was a nice sunny day in Vegas. Roman carefully closed the door behind him, balancing two sodas in the other hand. It had nearly 40 degrees, so his first thought was about jumping into the pool but he didn't. At least yet. He watched Dean on his way back. Latter was kind of hypnotising the water in the pool._

_“What bothers you, handsome?”_

_“Nothing.”_

_“I told you, you can tell me everything.”_

_“I know.”_

_“So?”_

_Roman placed a soda on the table near Dean and sat down on the bench next to him. He opened is own can, took a sip and waited patiently for a reply. As nothing came, he spoke:_

_“Let me guess...”_

_Roman eyed Dean for quite some time. He somehow felt the struggle inside of him and just knew what was the problem. Again. Or still? Roman put an arm around Dean, dragging him nearer._

_“You think this isn't gonna work, right? We already talked about it, if you remember.”_

_Dean nodded. He didn't want to argue with Roman. He knew he was right. He knew it was worth a try._

_“You said, you'll try. We'll try.”_

_“I know what I said.”_

_“We're gonna spend as much time as we can together. Like today.”_

_When Roman was honest to himself, it was easier said than done. Since Dean got the chip on his shoulder, he was travelling around like a madman. He hardly got time for himself. How should he be able to spend some quality time with Roman?_

_“Yeah... you're right. But... maybe we should think about...”_

_Dean sighed._

_“...moving together.”_

_“Wow. A minute ago you thought about breaking up with me and know you say let's move together?”_

_“If you don't want to...”_

_“Who said I don't want to?! Dean, please stop it!”_

This scene was playing in his mind again and again. It was his last free day a couple of weeks ago. Roman visited him in Vegas and they'd spend a nice day relaxing. After this conversation, they argued whether to stay here or in Pensacola together or to keep both places. But after all, it was a nice day as he recalled it.

He stopped crying about it maybe two hours ago. He was just lying there in the cold, fantasizing in his very own dream world. He tried to not concentrate on the pain he felt but failed miserably. It wasn't the physical pain that caused the most damage on him, inside of his head. Seth had played every single, desperate voice message Roman had left on Dean's phone. It was gut wrenching to hear Roman's voice and what he was saying.

God, he never knew he could miss someone so much. Dean wanted nothing more than call Roman and soothe him and tell him that it is all right, that HE is all right although he was very far from okay. At least it seemed, that Roman was still free and alive. It was Dean's only comfort. But he could never be sure that next time the door opens, Roman's got shoved down the stairs into the same misery than he was in.

He was shivering again. His stomach grumbled and started to hurt while he tried to get a comfortable position. Dean was kind of hungry but didn't feel it. He felt anything.

“Please... please be safe...” he whispered and tried to wipe his eyes with one hand. His swollen eye hurt as hell as he touched it a bit stronger than he intended to. He wondered if he would ever be able to see through it again normally. Or... if he'll ever escape this misery.

 

Dean didn't know that Seth was watching all the time, even when he wasn't with him down there. He had placed himself in front of the monitor, a cool drink in his hand, his legs on the table.

He could tell that Dean didn't ate the things that Seth brought him and it kind of made him angry. He might switch to sugared drinks or juice or anything like that, Seth thought. He wouldn't let him starve to death in his cellar although the thought of it was very, VERY tempting. 

But he was in a good mood right now, so that was only another little problem he might have to deal with later. If Seth thought of keeping him any longer.

He got called by Stephanie a few hours ago. She said, that he's in the title picture once again and that he will transfer the title to RAW. Seth smiled as he recalled the call in his mind. So it just turned out how he imagined it. He only had to defeat John Cena in a TLC match and boom hello beloved title! He was very pleased with himself so to say.  
He grabbed the last bite before he got up again, wandering around his house doing chores.

A few hours later, as his whole place was cleaned, he came up with the idea that maybe this was it. He got what he wanted, so there was no need for him to keep Dean any longer. Except maybe for his own pleasure. But he had to make sure that Dean wouldn't tell anyone his dirty little secret.

There might be another week or so to look forward. But he has a busy schedule until TLC so he had to get rid of him until that. When he made his way down he heard Dean groan. He was still lying on the floor, probably asleep, wincing in pain, but he wasn't really moving.

He kicked Dean's shoulder to get a reaction, but nothing. He waited a few seconds before he kicked again, this time a little harder, but again nothing happened.

“Always causing trouble...“ Seth murmured and kneeled down beside him.

When he grabbed his hair he finally got a reaction. Dean tried to get rid of the hand in his hair, whining and writhing in pain. He didn't scream as Seth expected him to do.

„So you're still not eating.“ Seth pointed out.

„You know what that means, don't you?“

As he released his grip on Dean's hair, he stood up and Dean tried to get away from him. But he only got a few centimeter away before he felt Seth's foot on his back, pinning him down.

„You're ready for the next round?“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys for the delay. I wanted to post the latest chapter a few weeks ago but I was first stuck with writers block and then I became ill and I wasn't even in the mood to write and think of what could happens next. Second I'm kind of depressed that I'm still not cleared for hitting the gym again and I can't see it's getting any better, which sucks big time.
> 
> But anyways. I really appreciate everyone who's still reviewing or leaving kudos.  
> Thank you for your continuing support! I love you!


	7. Chapter 7

_Some time later_

It was RAW after TLC and Roman watched calmly backstage as Seth went to the ring, holding up the title absorbing the cheers of the fans. He felt his anger rise as his former brother walked down the ramp, a smug smile on his face probably celebrating his victory more than the fans.

It took Roman some time before he realised that he held his hands clenched into fists. It wasn't Seth's title. It was Dean's. At least for the next month. He talked with Stephanie about it, she usually doesn't point out what the creative team was planning but she made an exception this time. 

Roman still thought that Dean had somewhat of a midlife crisis or anything but still couldn't understand why he didn't talk with him about it, that he just left without a single word, playing poker with his career and of course with his relationship as well. Roman knew that Dean had a different mentality about certain things and he was okay with it. 

Actually more than okay because he loved him. And cared about him. He knew what his past entailed. But something about his actual behaviour was odd. Didn't felt right. Roman just couldn't put a finger on it but as he watched Seth he felt something in his gut. 

 

After his match against Rusev Roman showered and prepared to leave the arena. This was a match were he had a hard time concentrating on his task and the following moves. Again. It was right after the match were Triple H came to him and talked to Roman, told him that he gets some time off, is released from the house shows as well to clear his mind again.  
He didn't like it but he knew that Triple H was always thinking about “what was best for business” and an injured Roman or opponent couldn't help. Roman was deeply in thought as he walked right into Seth on his way out of the lockers.

„Hey, watch it!“

„Watch what Rollins?“ Roman answered stressed out.

„Uuuuh, you're in a bad mood? Wanna come to my celebration? We're all going to a bar, grab a few beer, and-“

„Get out of my way.“ Roman stated calmly and was already walking by.

“Okay okay big dog. No need to be this rude.” Seth hold up his hands in a defending gesture.

“I am not rude. I'm going home for a few weeks, taking some time off. And I'm happy about it so I don't need to see your face, Rollins.”

„Oh, so you're heading home... I... well... maybe...”

Roman eyed him suspiciously.

“Maybe somebody is waiting for you there. You'll never know...“ Seth chanted and walked away but not without throwing some looks at Roman with a smile that made his heart cringe.

Roman took a flight home and couldn't help himself but think about Seth all the time. Why did he made that strange remark about somebody waiting for him? He would be home in about two hours, since the show were in Reno he decided to sleep in their home in Las Vegas. Their. It was strange to call a place “home” with nobody around that made this place feel like this.

Another week went by without a word from Dean. Were they still together? He thought about calling the police about three days he haven't heard from him. He checked with Stephanie first and she told him that he was still communicating with her or her brother Shane. It really seemed like he was only avoiding talking to him. So there was nothing that the police could do for him. Sadly.

 

_The day before in a different city_

A cold breeze was flowing through the auburn hair of the unconscious man. The last rays of sunlight were shining on this day, searching their way through a tree to shine in his face. His breathing became a coughing fit as he slowly woke up. He was opening his right eye, the left side still swollen shut, and he couldn't believe that he actually saw something.

He woke up behind a garbage bin in an alley. Startled, he looked around, trying to adjust to the bright light he wasn't used to any more. He was used to the dark and the light burned in his eyes and he was getting a headache. Where the fuck was he? His mind screamed at him to run away as long as he could, but he actually couldn't.

His body was one giant pain, not able to move faster than a snail.

Dean got himself into a sitting position, leaning against a muddy wall and closed his eyes again. He felt nauseous and tried to take deep breaths. The stinging pain in his rips didn't help much with it but he tried anyway and pressed a hand on his injured rips.

He opened his eyes again and looked at his legs. He was thankful for them to be covered in trousers. Seems like he was fully clothed wherever he was. He could remember he was pretty battered up, his eye throbbing and still swollen, his chest and his left arm hurting like hell, and that he mostly was sitting in the dark. But nothing more. He tried to remember anything but nothing. It seemed that it was already late, the sunlight already fading, so it could be safe for him to wander around the streets and find out where he was.

Everything hurt as he stood up and he felt more weak than ever. Standing on his own two feet was overwhelming, he never thought he would escape the hell he endured the past weeks. Or month? He wasn't sure. He tried to remember at least something but it was all black.

A sick feeling made him retch a few times but nothing came out. It took him some time before he could think about moving and he made it around the corner, carefully looking around. There was a bus stop in about 50m, and it wasn't too crowded so he gave it a shot. He limped his way to the bus stop, one arm cradled around his middle, the other on the wall, trying to hold his balance. Dean made his way up to the bus stop and read the timetable.

“I can't fucking believe it. Vegas. I am in fucking Las Vegas.”

His voice sounded rough, strange to his own ears. His mouth was dry, but he couldn't care less about drinking right now. Dean couldn't believe his luck. He needed some time though to figure how to get to his house. It was exhausting and debilitating. He hadn't any money with him, so he needed to walk a few miles. He was getting strange looks from a few passing byers but no one dared to help him.

Every now and then he had to deal with a minor anxiety attack or got nauseous again which slowed him down even more.

By the time he arrived, it already dawned, he was covered in sweat, breathed heavily and felt like he was going to faint. 

He grabbed the spare key which was hidden under a rock near the door and opened it. He closed the door and locked it again absent-minded checked if it was really locked. Dean looked around but nobody was home. Good. He wasn't sure he would be able to deal with Roman right now. He needed a shower first.

He made his way through his house heading directly to the bathroom. He reeked like shit and every other body fluid he could imagine. It was a wonder that nobody who had crossed his path was puking. He limped upstairs and undressed on the way, kicking his shoes off first.

Dean would have left a trail of clothes on the way but it wasn't that easy to get out of them. He entered the bathroom and went straight to the tub to take a seat. It took a hell of a time to get rid of his clothes completely. He still hadn't all the feeling back in his fingers so he needed some extra time for the buttons. Despite his own expectations it wasn't that easy to get out of a shirt with a hurt shoulder either.

Dean totally forgot that they had a large mirror on the fair end of the bathroom and nearly gasped in shock as he saw himself in the mirror and his heart stopped beating. He looked pretty bad with bruises all over his body some fading but other deep black and blue as if they were from yesterday. He couldn't tear his eyes away. He never looked that way not even as his stepfather nearly beat him to death when he was still living in Cincinnati when he was a kid.

Standing up he made slowly his way to the shower and turned on the water. The image of himself still hanging in the back of his mind, he didn't realise that he let himself slip down the wall until he was sitting on the floor and started sobbing. The warm water was stinging on his wounds, but as he curled himself up in a tight ball he could think only one thing:

He was save now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeere it is!
> 
> Thanks for sticking with this story here, on FF.net or on Tumblr!
> 
> As always, reviews are much appreciated! Thank you very much!
> 
> AHOI!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally chapter eight. Wasn't in the mood to write anything. 
> 
> Enjoy anyways!
> 
> Grateful for every single follow, recommendation for any library, kudo or review. Thank you!

__

_I know that things will never be the same_  
No need to explain, I'm not looking for someone to blame  
I know that things will never be the same  
Now I'm forced to face the truth  
That the best part of me died with you

_Silence and distance, when I'm next to you_  
False words are spoken, I can't believe it's true  
Ignoring the presence, like I don't exist  
Move on without me, I guess I won't get missed 

 

Although Roman slept on his flight home all he could think of was sleeping- except the 24 hours he permanently thought about Dean. He felt exhausted, from all the thinking, from all the caring, from just everything. He couldn't help it. But he wouldn't change it. He loved him and nothing in this world could change that.

Roman cared so much for him it hurt him not physically but mentally. It hurt that he wasn't talking to him any more just like he used to. Dean wasn't a great talker, but not hearing from him in all this time was like someone ripped his heart out. All he got was one lame text message.

Now he was suspended, he lost the two things he loved the most: Dean and his job. He needed to overthink a lot so maybe this suspension was a chance he should take to get his life back into his tracks, to focus on himself now. It felt so wrong.

When he came home, he gave the cab driver a huge tip, grabbed his belongings and made his way to the front door.

The Samoan let himself in, throwing his stuff carelessly into the living room, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He walked into the kitchen and checked the fridge for a cold drink. Roman opened the can, took a sip and looked around. It was all like he remembered, but... it looked like... could it be? No way!

Noticing Dean's shoes in front of the stairs, he stopped in his tracks. How could he miss this in the first place? It was like being hypnotised; he just couldn't look away. Of course he noticed that his shoes were dirty and got a lot of blood on it. He was sure his heart skipped a beat before it was increasing its pace.

“Dean?!” he asked but got no response. Roman placed the can on the counter and made up his way to the first floor and the bedroom, only to find it abandoned then moved to the bathroom. The door was closed. He looked nervous at the handle before he grabbed it but didn't turn it around. He knocked instead.

“Dean?! You're in there?”

He heard some shuffling and the water still running but no answer.

“Coming in now, ok?”

He turned the handle and opened the door a bit to look inside. He could see Dean's ripped clothes scrambled across the floor. He noticed more crimson on them like on his shoes before. He walked into the room and looked around only to find Dean lying in the shower, naked, hunched like he wanted to disappear.

Roman was unsure what to do next but he needed to check if he's alright. He quickly looked at Dean, how he was curled up in the shower, the water still running, but not really cleaning up the mess which was lying in front of him. He looked like shit and pretty beaten up as far as Roman could tell. He tried to ignore the minor cuts and bruises on Dean's body but he couldn't. Roman didn't notice it first but when he looked at Dean his eyes watered up, he could only imagine what his better half had gone through.

_“Where were you?”_ came into his mind and he grabbed a towel.

Roman crawled beside him shutting down the water. When he was near, he saw that Dean either fell asleep or passed out.

“Dean?” he touched his arm and waited for a reaction.

“Dean?” he tried again, this time a bit louder. He started nervously cleaning his friend's face with the towel, he wasn't sure if he'd hurt him if he rubbed too hard. Dean's face looked like it hurt a lot. It was when Roman was wiping some hair out of his eye he felt Dean tense up.

“I got you, babe.”

Dean opened his eyes and all he felt was a warm body near his. He stopped breathing and involuntary tensed. He couldn't tell were he was nor who touched him.

_“Run!”_ his mind was telling him. He couldn't made up his familiar surroundings or the familiar scent of Roman. He felt trapped. Someone was in his personal space, touching him. As he breathed again it was fast, he panicked.

He tried to get away from this man as fast as he could, throwing his elbow right into Roman's nose.

“Go away. Go away!” he screamed in a rough voice, not seeing clear, only managed to crawl in another corner of the shower, trying to shield his head from his attacker.

Roman felt a sudden pain in his face, his hand shooting up to his nose as the blood ran freely from it.

“Fuck.”

He looked at his bloody hand.

“Hey, it's me, Roman! I don't want to harm you, I-”

“Go away!” Dean screamed again.

Roman couldn't process what's happening, still holding his bleeding nose.

“Leave me alone.”

“I'm not leaving you alone.”

“LEAVE ME ALONE!”

Stunned he watched Dean making himself invisible in the shower corner, shaking from the attack.

Roman was confused and shocked by Dean's behaviour. It didn't make sense no matter how often he replays it in his mind. He was still holding his bleeding nose, grabbing a towel near him, pressing it in his face.

“I... just wanted to help...”

Roman was leaving the bathroom if he liked it or not to give Dean some space. He closed the door and couldn't tell if his eyes were teary because of the sudden impact on his nose and the pain that was creeping up or if he was thinking about a different outcome of their first meeting in months.

His mind was running in circles and he was still shocked about how Dean reacted when he touched him and how the clothes were looking and all the blood and-

He couldn't remember how he made his way back to the kitchen to grab some ice but he did. Roman growled when the ice pack touched his nose and the sudden pain distracted him from his thoughts. His nose was already swollen and probably broken. He tried to breath through it but all he could smell was the metallic smell of blood.

 

Dean was 20 minutes later still shaking from the attack or the cold that was creeping at him. He was still sitting in the shower with no water running.

_“I... just wanted to help.”_

His mind just couldn't bring himself to do anything that sit right here and stare at the door as if there was a thread which was waiting for Dean to blink. He didn't feel safe any more.

_“I... just wanted to help.”_

The only thing he remembered was long black hair in his vision and something snapped in him. He couldn't tell what made him so afraid of it. It is like a part of him didn't want to remember.

In fact, he couldn't remember anything at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songtext from "Died with you" by Fozzy


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody,
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the last chapter because here is the next one. Yes, I know. I don't want to spoil you but I can't help it. I need to get this one out of my system although I postet the last chapter one week ago. I can't promise the next one is coming as fast as this but anyways: Enjoy!
> 
> And remember: I love every one of you. :)

_Now I'm standing at the crossroads_  
_And I know which way to go_  
_But I'm not strong enough to get there on my own_

__

_I'm at an end_  
_Losing control_  
_Trying to mend_  
_This Broken Soul_  
_Give me one more chance_  
_For me to show_  
_How much I need you to heal my broken soul_

_2 hours later_

It knocked. It woke him up immediately from his absent-minded state and Dean stopped to scratch himself under the collarbone like he used to when he was nervous. He tried to remain calm, maybe the “problem” would just go away if he didn't say anything and stayed here. He wouldn't mind that at all, as long as he'd be alone.

“Dean?”

Nope. This won't work. He tried to remember anything that had happened before he came here, since his encounter with Roman but it just wouldn't come.

“Can I come in?”

“No.”

He heard shuffling in front of the door but it remained closed.

“I... just wanted to help.”

 

Dean started crying silently. He just had to remember anything! This wasn't normal. He tried to wiped angrily the tears away just to be reminded that everything hurt. His hands, his face, his whole body ached. The more time passed, the more angrier he got. He grabbed his hair and tugged until it became unbearable so he stopped. He looked at his hands, covered with dried blood barely washed away by the shower a few hours ago and dried again.

He remembered the look on his face when he stood in front of the mirror a few hours ago, that was at least something. But it's not the thing he tried desperately to remember. Dean did look pretty beaten up and god-knows-what-else. He wouldn't recognize himself in the first place if someone asked. He remembered the dried blood covering his whole body, the swollen eye, his aching shoulder. He needed to clean himself up. But he wasn't sure if he was strong enough.

“Dean?”

The auburn haired man tried to ignore the voice and stood up. He must be strong enough.

 _“He just wants to help you. He loves you.”_ reasoned a voice in his head.

On shaky legs he tried to pour some shampoo on his head, steadying himself with the left hand on the faucet which was anything than easy. His shoulder and rips made every little move so much worse it gave him trouble breathing properly but somehow he managed to clean himself up, it just took some time.

Dean made his way out of the shower and took a seat at the tub's edge and again he just couldn't look away as he caught an eye on his reflection. Naively he thought that showering would solve all his problems but it didn't even help at feeling better physically. With wet, sore eyes he looked at himself. Again.

His skin was red from the hot water and the scrubbing mixed with some haematoma's, his hair was dripping wet and some of his wounds were bleeding again.

 _“Why don't you listen to me?”_

“I am listening.”

_“Then why don't you just go out there?”_

“I can't.”

_“You can!”_

“Don't tell me what I can!”

Angrily he looked in the mirror, right into his own eyes.

Again, a knock on the door but he couldn't look away.

“Dean?”

The sorrowful voice from Roman made it finally to his ears. He took his face in his hands and tried to take a deep breath.

“Shit.”

Somehow he totally forgot about Roman. How was this even possible?

“Can I come in, please? I'm worried about you.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“No! I don't wanna see you!” _I can't._

“Why?”

“Because I don't wanna see you! Or anyone else!” _Not now._

 

Roman on the other side of the door heard Dean cry. He had the last hours he sat in front of the door after he cleaned up the mess in his face. Although there were no blood any more the throbbing pain stayed. He pinched his nose and grabbed a new ice pack.

“Fuck this shit.”

He was angry. Angry that after Dean vanished for months all he got was a cracked nose. He knew that it was wrong to be angry, that Dean didn't do it on purpose like he wanted to punch him in the face because he hated him or something. He knew, no, he wished that Dean didn't hate him. But could he be sure? He remembered the text message and got even angrier.

After taking a deep breath Roman decided that he needed to check on him. It was two hours ago that he left him in the shower. He took the ice pack with him and went upstairs. In front of the bathroom door he stopped and knocked.

“Dean?”

He listened if there was any answer but as nothing came he added “Can I come in?”

“No.”

He sighed. What did he expect? He sat down next to the door and put the ice on his nose again. All he could do now was wait, right? He didn't know how long it was until he heard the shower again. Roman closed his eyes for several minutes. He was home for what? Like three hours? And he was exhausted as hell, even more since he left the arena.

The Samoan didn't allow himself to get angry because of Dean's strange behaviour again although deep down inside him he blamed him for everything that went wrong.

He blamed him for the mixed feelings he got now, for the suspension for, well, his throbbing nose. Suddenly he heard Dean talking. But with whom? To himself? He caught himself eavesdropping before he knocked again.

“Dean?”

He asked him again if he could come in but of course Dean declined it and before he knew he was screamed at.

“Okay... you know where to find me...if you want to.”

Was all he managed to say before he stood up and left his spot next to the door. He thought a moment to just leave for the night or maybe forever but that wasn't him and he felt unsure that this thought even crossed his mind if only for a second. He went downstairs to get his luggage, it was late and he felt the urge to go to bed but... where?

Roman looked around. He could sleep on the couch- no option. It wasn't a cheap one but he fell asleep on it often enough that he knew his back would thank him if he slept anywhere else. He decided that it would be a good decision to sleep in the guest room as he wanted to give Dean some space and that wouldn't be the case if he slept in the master bedroom.

He went to the guest room and put his duffel on the chair next to the bed. He searched for his toothbrush. On his way to the second bathroom he already put toothpaste on it and brushed absent-minded his teeth. He crossed the way to the master bedroom and couldn't help it but peek in. But despite his expectation the room was empty.

Roman stood there for another minute or so before he made his way to the bathroom and finally back to bed. He undressed himself and lied down.

There was no way he was getting any sleep this night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songtext by Fozzy "Broken Soul"
> 
> I love this song to death and no song EVER is fitting more perfectly for something like this.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything from WWE (sadly). I only borrow the characters, but I'll bring them back. They might look a little used but, they will be okay...


End file.
